


unwrap me

by PaintedVanilla



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Lingerie, M/M, Praise Kink, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:58:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18354389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/pseuds/PaintedVanilla
Summary: He unbuttons his blazer and shrugs it off his shoulders, letting it drop onto the ground and not caring that it would likely wrinkle. “Unwrap me.”





	unwrap me

Crowley has been fidgeting all evening.

Aziraphale finds it both amusing and curious, the way he squirms in the car both to and from dinner, and the way he can’t seem to sit still while they’re in the restaurant. Aziraphale gives him questioning looks throughout the evening, raising his eyebrows and asking him with his eyes, and each time Crowley simply grins and manages to stop his fidgeting for just a moment, before he starts back up again.

“Are you alright, Crowley?” Aziraphale asks once they’re almost back to the cottage. 

“Quite,” Crowley says happily, that same wicked grin breaking out on his face. “Have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale asks, watching him closely. “What is it?”

Crowley hums, looking almost giddy. “It’s a gift.”

“Oh? What’s the occasion?”

“Just felt like it.”

“I see.”

Crowley had taken him somewhere nice for dinner, taking the opportunity to dress up. When they’d lived in London, which had been close to always, but especially for the most recent several decades, Crowley had spent practically all his time in handsome suits and fancy slacks with neatly buttoned up, well fitting dress shirts. Crowley still wore those shirts now, although the slacks and suits made less frequent appearances, considering the amount of time he spent kneeling in the dirt out in his garden. Even when he did break out one of his dress shirts, the sleeves were always pushed up, it was never close to being buttoned all the way up, and it was usually tucked into a pair of jeans. 

Tonight, though, he’d broken out one of his nicer outfits. An ensemble circa 1950, which he had likely chosen specifically because many of the aesthetics Aziraphale found attractive were rooted in that era. It was certainly having the desired effect, seeing as for most of the drive home Aziraphale’s hand found purchase on Crowley’s thigh. 

Once back to their little cottage, Crowley let Aziraphale kiss him once in the entryway before dragging him into the bedroom, where he had Aziraphale sit at the foot of the bed.

“Okay,” he says; he pushes Aziraphale’s legs apart at the knees and then stands in the space there. “Here’s your gift.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale says, endlessly endeared. “Are you going to do a dance for me?”

Crowley blushes deeply; he wishes he’d thought of that. “No, sorry,” he says, a bit sheepishly. “I’m not a very good dancer.”

“I’ll have to teach you sometime.”

“I will _not_ gavotte with you.”

Aziraphale, who’s hands had come to rest on the back of Crowley’s thighs, pinches him. Crowley keens quietly, rocking his hips forward, that wicked grin still on his face.

“Okay,” he says eagerly. “Okay. Here’s your gift.” 

He unbuttons his blazer and shrugs it off his shoulders, letting it drop onto the ground and not caring that it would likely wrinkle. “Unwrap me.”

Aziraphale chuckles, gazing up at him as he begins to undo his tie. “You’re ridiculous,” he says quietly. 

Crowley tosses his tie on the floor with his coat. “You’re not unwrapping your gift.”

Aziraphale chuckles again and begins to unbuckle Crowley’s belt, while the demon in question starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

“You’re a silly little thing,” Aziraphale says, amused, as he pulls Crowley’s belt off and tosses it on the floor. He untucks his shirt and pops the button of his slacks as Crowley finishes with his buttons. “I’ve seen you naked before, dear boy. And it’s not that your body isn’t a gift, it very much is, it’s just hardly surprising—”

He falls silent, still, his fingers hooked in the belt loops of his slacks, his eyes fixed intently on the red lace he’s wearing underneath them. He miracles Crowley’s slacks off with a thought, pulling him closer so he can admire the deep red lingerie he’s wearing.

Crowley shivers, in reaction to both the sudden exposure of his legs, and to the feeling of Aziraphale’s breath so close to his hardening cock. 

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale breathes, his eyes hazy with unmistakable lust. “You’re  _ gorgeous.” _

He presses a kiss to Crowley’s navel, his hands coming to rest on his thighs again, and Crowley keens. “Please…”

“What do you want?” Aziraphale asks, moving his hands from his thighs to his arse and squeezing, and Crowley’s cock twitches. “You can have anything you want. Anything in the world, you beautiful thing.”

“Handsome…” Crowley corrects him gently, almost shyly.

“Yes, handsome,” Aziraphale agrees. “What do you want, handsome?”

Crowley hums low in his throat. “Use me.”

“Oh, you’ll be the death of me,” Aziraphale mutters, squeezing his arse again and delighting in Crowley’s reaction, from the noise he makes to the way his cock jumps. “I’m going to ravage you. Fuck you until you can’t walk. Make you come so many times all you can do is weep my name and beg for mercy. And you’re going to do it all in this,” he thumbs at the waistband of the lingerie, and Crowley whimpers delightfully, “and you’re going to  _ ruin it.  _ And I’m going to ruin  _ you.” _

“Oh, please,” Crowley breathes, cupping Aziraphale’s face in his hands. “Will you praise me?”

“Of course,” Aziraphale says, pulling him down into his lap. Crowley happily accepts the new position, eagerly pulling his angel into a kiss.

“Ruin me,” he urges against his lips, “and praise me while you do it.”

“Anything,” Aziraphale promises. “Anything you want, as long as you promise to wear this again.”

“Oh, no,” Crowley teases. “Please, ruin it. I have others.”

Aziraphale drags him into bed, and keeps him there.


End file.
